


today the sun comes in

by playedwright



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, NHL Chowder, NHL Nursey, Slow Burn, basically a love letter to seattle, rly rly rly flowery descriptions of literally everything, so much pining, the slowest of burns, this got out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Will looks beautiful, Derek thinks, and it isn’t fair. Time has done nothing to lessen the extent of his feelings, either. Derek realizes a little too late exactly why he was nervous.It has been four years, three months, and five days since they graduated from Samwell, and Derek is finally facing the undeniable fact that at some time during his college years, he fell in love with William J. Poindexter and never got around to falling out of it.





	today the sun comes in

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this one sitting in my drafts folder for a long time. this has been my secret project for far too long aka i kept working on this one instead of the other fic i have currently in progress or any of the other projects i keep taking on smh. anywAY this is . probably one of my favorite things i've ever written so .. enjoy!
> 
> title and poem excerpts come from [proverbs of hell](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-proverbs-of-hell/) by rg gregory, which is a beautiful but v confusing poem that i have been reading obsessively ever since i started this fic

_(a) radical_

_ban all fires_   
_and places where people congregate_   
_to create comfort_   
_put an end to sleep_   
_good cooking_   
_and the delectation of wine  
_ _tear lovers apart  
_ _piss on the sun and moon  
_ _degut all heavenly harmony  
_ _strike out across the bitter ice  
_ _and the poisonous marshes_

  
_make (if you dare) a better world_

  


The flight from Providence to Seattle is seven hours and fifty-three minutes, including a layover in Chicago, from takeoff to touchdown. Derek spends the majority of it thrumming his fingers against the armrest and scribbling words into the margins of his latest airplane read.

 

He’s not nervous.

 

It doesn’t make sense to be nervous. So he isn’t. Because these are his best friends. Time hasn’t eroded them. Time has added laughter lines to the corners of Derek’s eyes and softness to the harsher edges of their friendships and time has added distance but it has not separated them. So he isn’t nervous.

 

It’s just _Chowder_ and _Dex_.

 

He’s got a picture in his wallet of the last time they were all together; it’s Chris, sitting in a chair and beaming even as he cries, cradling his newborn son in his arms and unable to look away. And it is Derek and Will on either side of him, holding him, crying with him, and waiting patiently for the chance to hold their godson.

 

So even with no reason to be nervous, Derek wonders idly why his fingers won’t stop twitching.

 

“Excuse me,” says the woman in front of him, and her entire face flushed red when he looks up at her. “I’m so sorry—but are you Derek Nurse?”

 

“I am,” he confirms.

 

Her face splits into a grin. She points to the Falconers beanie she wears on her head. “Do you think I could possibly get an autograph?” she asks. Derek can’t help but smile back at her. She hands him her beverage napkin and he swaps out a pen for a thick Sharpie and signs his name with a flourish before giving it back to her. The people around them look on in intrigue but no one else asks for an autograph.

 

Derek thinks he’ll offer to take a picture with her, if she wants, once they deplane.

 

It could help the nerves.

 

Because who is he kidding? He’s _nervous._

 

There’s a voice in his head that sounds, sometimes, suspiciously like Chris Chow’s—a voice of reason, loathe as Derek is to admit it—and today it’s logical reassurances aren’t doing shit to calm Derek down.

 

It’s just—

 

This is the first time he’s ever been to Will’s place.

 

Will has a home and a life and new friends and a piece of Seattle that he’s carved for himself. Derek almost feels like he’s intruding. This will be a Will he wasn’t privy to during their college years.

 

So.

 

He’s nervous.

 

Derek adjusts the volume of his headphones, leans back in his seat, and closes his eyes.

 

Seven hours and fifty-three minutes. He spends at least sixty of those minutes pretending to read, ten taking pictures with fans and signing things, forty on a FaceTime call with Jack, thirty having a fitful nap, and the remainder of it anxiously tapping his fingers.

 

When the plane touches down in Seattle, a weight lifts off his chest.

 

He’s picked up by Chris and Caitlin.

 

They stand by the doors holding signs in their hands and Derek nearly cries at the sight of them. Caitlin sees him first. She drops her sign and starts running with a shout, and Derek barely has a second to notice before he’s almost taken down by an armful of Caitlin Chow.

 

“Hi!” Caitlin shouts in his ear. Derek’s laughing as his arms come up to hug her back. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I got so excited to see you I didn’t even give you a chance to look at the signs we made for you! But you’re _here_ —Chris, he’s _here_.”

 

It doesn’t even matter that Caitlin didn’t let him see the sign, because Chris brings both of them over anyway and Derek laugh is startled and pleased when he reads them.

 

“Man, you had to bring up Nursey Patrol again, didn’t you?” Derek groans. Caitlin doesn’t let go of him when Chris brings it in for a hug, too. “It’s been at least four years since I’ve needed _Nursey Patrol_.”

 

“I stand by the belief that Nursey Patrol is a state of mind,” Chris says firmly. “And you’ll always be our human disaster, bud, so you’ll always need it.”

 

Derek whines and Caitlin laughs, and Chris is grinning from ear to ear, and—

 

God. It’s almost like he had no reason to be nervous.

 

“Where’s my godson?” Derek asks, when Cait and Chris finally pull off of him and start arguing over who will help carry his stuff.

 

Caitlin takes advantage of Chris’s distraction when Derek asks, and she sticks her tongue out in victory as she slings the carry-on over her shoulder. “Will has Michael,” Chris sighs. He still blushes when Caitlin gives him kisses on the cheek. “He had a conference call he had to take from home, otherwise he’d be here.”

 

“Conference calls, huh?” Derek asks. He slings an arm over Chris’s shoulder, reveling in the way that even after all these years they can still find it so easy to fall into casual intimacy. Chris leans against him. “Sounds thrilling.”

 

“Much more exciting than an NHL contract,” Chris says, face comically serious. Caitlin rolls her eyes at the both of them.

 

Derek only waits a beat before saying, “We totally won.”

 

“We _totally_ won!” Chris agrees.

 

“You both should ask Will what his yearly salary is,” Caitlin says primly, striding ahead of them both. The look in her eyes is stern. “Also, be nice. His job has perks.”

 

Chris and Derek dissolve into giggles.

 

Old habits die hard, after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_(b) expect poison from standing water_

 

Will lives in a blue house, somewhere in Redmond that Derek is positive he’d get lost trying to find on his own.

 

The house is nice. Big, even as a one-story home, and very blue. There’s a long driveway and the front yard is small but the porch is huge and there’s a porch swing and plants. Derek has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that this is a home _William Poindexter owns._

 

“He did some remodeling,” Chris comments as he puts the car in park. Will’s car isn’t on the driveway but Derek suspects it’s parked in one of the two garages. Jesus. He’s also not surprised to hear that Will did some remodeling. He probably would have built his house from the ground up if he’d felt like he had the time. “The house used to be this really ugly kind of yellow, so he painted it. Dark blue, after some asshole at Home Depot told Will it’d look ugly if he did it.”

 

“It’s not ugly,” Derek manages to say. It’s about all he can manage. The house, in actuality, is… really nice. He feels oddly proud of Will.

 

“He bought the porch swing after Chris got traded,” Caitlin adds, as they climb out of the car. “When he found out we were moving here, he got so excited. He was all, ‘I have to have a porch swing now. Where else will Michael and I sit every time he comes over, creating bonding memories between my godson and I that will last a lifetime?’ So, porch swing.”

 

Derek raises an eyebrow.

 

“Those weren’t his exact words,” Chris clarifies.

 

Caitlin holds Chris’s hand even when they’re just walking to the front door. Derek almost rolls his eyes at how cute it is, in an annoying way.

 

“Lowkey jealous that Will is going to see Michael more than I am now,” Derek says grumpily. “I live literally on the other side of the country, how is that fair? Will’s gonna lie to him and tell him that he’s the cooler godparent.”

 

Someone pats his cheek sympathetically. Derek doesn’t get the chance to turn and see who it was.

 

Because the front door swings open, and Will is—

 

Derek’s heart stutters once, twice, three times in his chest.

 

Will Poindexter looks unfairly good. Maturity has done him well; his hair is no longer kept incredibly short and neat, though it’s still brushed back out of his face. His eyes are soft and brighter than ever. He looks tan, which Derek thinks is absurd since he lives in _Washington_. He’s wearing a short sleeved button up and jeans and there’s a burp rag over his shoulder and Michael Chow cradled in his right arm and—

 

Christ god.

 

“Hey!” Will says, and his face takes a second to break into a smile. “Glad to see your flight landed safely, Nurse.”

 

Derek’s tongue feels heavy as he says, “Uh, yeah.”

 

Caitlin steps forward first, hugging Will with ease and cooing happily at her son as he’s passed back into her arms. As Chris moves next, Will says around the hug, “Cait, I just finished feeding him, he didn’t throw any of it up this time. He’s probably about eight seconds away from a nap.”

 

Then Will’s arms are around him and Derek is _melting_ into the hug.

 

He probably holds on for a few beats too long.

 

It’s just—

 

Will feels _good_.

 

If anything, he feels sturdier, like he’s still been working out constantly even though his hockey days are over. Derek gets struck suddenly with the image of Will in basketball shorts and a tank top, taking advantage of sunny days in Washington and going for runs alongside the lake.

 

Jesus.

 

He lets go quickly after that.

 

Derek feels like he’s just cracked open his chest and exposed his beating heart, which is dramatic enough as it is, so he pretends to get distracted by studying what parts of Will’s house he can see from the foyer. Will smirks.

 

“Place turned out pretty nice, didn’t it?” Will asks. There’s something in his voice that seems almost nervous about what Derek will say.

 

Which is—absurd. This place _is_ nice. Will has to know that.

 

“Dude, you kidding? Look at it! Your place is mad cool.” Will looks like he wants to roll his eyes, and Derek tries not to dwell on how this feels like familiar territory. “I’m serious. Did you pay someone to decorate for you?”

 

“Nah, it’s all me.”

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Derek says again, reverently. “Respect. Did you secretly take an interior design class during college?”

 

This time, Will does roll his eyes. “I’m gonna take this as a compliment. You want the tour?”

 

Chris and Caitlin have already left the foyer, no doubt voyaging farther into Will’s house and putting Michael down for his nap somewhere. They’ve been here for two days already, Derek thinks, already had time to settle into the idea that they’re staying at Will’s house, that he owns, somewhere all the way across the country from where he was raised.

 

Derek tells himself to get a grip.

 

“Chyeah,” Derek tells Will.

 

The strangest part about all of this is that Derek has never seen Will like this before. There was a holiday once, forever ago, that Will came up to New York to visit Derek. He fit into the city more than Derek had anticipated. It was one of the best holiday breaks Derek had ever had, and Will had integrated so _well_ into his space that Derek didn’t even question it.

 

He’s never had a chance to see Will in the comfort of his _own_ home.

 

The thing is, Will looks like he belongs in this house. He moves with comfort and confidence as he leads Derek through the house. His voice is fond as he points out each room. Derek can tell he’s proud of this place.

 

Derek can picture Will, his family or his friends from this place gathered around his formal dining table while he brings in the food. He can see Will coming home from work and sitting on one of the many couches in his living room, he can see Will in the mornings padding quietly into the kitchen and pouring coffee from the French press. He can picture Will cooking in the evenings as the sun starts to set and shine through the west windows. Derek lived two years in Will’s space and he learned things about Will he’ll always remember, but he has never been able to picture a Will who lives like _this_.

 

There’s three bedrooms in Will’s house, and Chris and Caitlin have already made themselves at home in one of his guest rooms. Derek holds his breath when Will offers to show Derek his room.

 

“It’s usually my office,” Will says, and he sounds apologetic. “But I had some stuff moved out so I could put a bed in there, temporarily. I wasn’t able to move the books though. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

 

“I could have slept on the couch,” Derek starts to say, and the rest of his argument dies in his throat when Will pushes the door open. It’s the one part of Will’s house that looks haphazardly put together, and Derek can’t take his eyes off of it. “Floor to ceiling bookshelves? Really?”

 

Will shrugs. “I have a lot of books.”

 

The room moss green and there are books that don’t fit on the bookshelf residing in corners and on floors, and it’s clear the bed doesn’t belong here but the grey duvet matches the accents of the room and there’s a nook by the window where Derek could spend this whole trip sitting and reading, if he wanted to.

 

“You made a reading room in your house,” Derek realizes.

 

“I made a reading room,” Will agrees. His laughter is breathless. “This one actually functions as a real reading room, though. Oh, except when Shitty came to visit, this place was like the Haus reading room.”

 

Derek laughs.

 

Chris’s footsteps are quiet but they still hear him approach, Derek doesn’t turn to look at him when he says, “Isn’t it awesome?”

 

He doesn’t know if Chris is referring to the reading room or Will’s house in general, but he has to agree. He says as much to Will. Delightfully, time has done nothing to lessen how quick Will is to flush red from head to toe.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will mutters, in the same embarrassed tone he used to give them back in their college days.

 

Derek wants to press his fingers to the back of Will’s neck. He looks beautiful, Derek thinks, and it isn’t fair. Time has done nothing to lessen the extent of his feelings, either. Derek realizes a little too late exactly what he was nervous for.

 

Will and Chris leave him to settle into his room. Derek shuts the door softly behind them then sits, heavy, down on the bed and scrubs his face with his hands.

 

It has been four years, three months, and five days since they graduated from Samwell, and Derek is finally facing the undeniable fact that at some time during his college years, he fell in love with William J. Poindexter and never got around to falling out of it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_(iii)_

_lake erie  
_ _why not as a joke one night  
_ _pick up your bed and walk  
_ _to washington — sleep  
_ _your damned sleep in its streets  
_ _so that one bright metallic morning  
_ _it can wake up to the stench_  

_green effervescence so active  
_ _your skin has a job to keep it all in_

 

Chris Chow looks at Derek like he knows his secret.

 

Knowing Chris, he probably _has_ been aware for longer than Derek has. He’s always been able to read Derek in ways that none of his other friends can. This is how they clicked so fast, that first time eight years ago. There’s a reason they’ve been best friends so long.

 

Part of Derek hopes Chris does already know. It would save him the trouble of having to admit it himself. But there’s a part of him that sinks his heart when he thinks about this being _obvious_ , and it’s the part of him that has never said it out loud to anyone before.

 

Derek falls in love all the time. Everyone he knows is aware of this fact.

 

He rarely falls in loves and lets it stick.

 

They all go out to dinner, a little while later when Michael wakes up from his nap and isn’t too fussy to take out. Derek holds him and coos at him and—not for the first time—wonders when they all became grown up enough to have homes and jobs and babies.

 

Derek alternates between staring adoringly at Michael and glancing unsubtly at Will, and Chris notices. He catches Chris’s eye at one point, a second after they’ve all placed their orders and Will has thanked their waiter for the hundredth time. Chris raises an eyebrow, and Derek does his best to not blush.

 

Michael is fond of a particularly obnoxious red toy that he keeps hitting against the side of Derek’s forehead, but Derek finds he doesn’t really mind. Michael likes to babble and hold on to Derek’s fingers and point excitedly at his parents. The whole table is enamored by him.

 

There is, of course, the thrill that runs through Derek’s body every time he catches Will looking at him and Michael.

 

Some things cannot be avoided.

 

“Are you sad about the trade, Chris?” Will asks, at some point after the waiter drops off their drinks.

 

Caitlin takes Chris’s hand, effectively stopping him from ripping the napkin he’d been fiddling with for the last ten minutes. Derek wonders, idly, what it’s like to have a support system as strong as Caitlin Chow. He wonders how different his life in Providence would be, if he had one.

 

“Not really?” Chris admits. “I mean. It’s sad to leave, I played with Vegas for four seasons, you know? But I knew a change was coming. And we just had Michael, and Cait and I are glad we’ll have a chance to raise him somewhere like Seattle. The Schooners are a decent team, too. Better, now, that they’ve got a kickass goalie.”

 

Derek and Will grin. “Hell yeah, they do,” Will says.

 

“Their goalie still can’t stop my shots,” Derek says. Chris throws his straw wrapper at Derek.

 

“Still can’t believe you both made it to the NHL,” Will tells them. His face is soft, though—proud. “We’re at, what? Four former Samwell players now playing professionally? And that’s just in the last seven years.”

 

Derek’s still staring at Will, captivated by his smile. In the time they spend away from one another, sometimes Derek forgets how beautiful Will can be.

 

“We’ve all done pretty well for ourselves,” Derek adds. Michael accentuates his point by hitting Derek on the forehead again. Will’s face dances across complicated emotions Derek can’t discern. “See, Michael agrees with me.”

 

Will grins.

 

Caitlin takes Michael out of Derek’s lap a few minutes before the food arrives, taking the baby back to the bathroom for a diaper change. Will says to Chris, “God, you have the world’s cutest fucking baby.”

 

“I know, right?”

 

“Think he’ll like Seattle?”

 

“I think he’ll  _love_ it!”

 

“Hey,” Derek says fiercely, as he points a finger at Will. “Absolutely no filling that kid’s head with garbage about how you’re the superior godparent, chill? I’m not here to defend myself, it won’t be fair.”

 

“Aw, you’ll be here sometimes. Whenever the Falcs play the Schoons. You can fill his head with your own lies then.” Will’s shit-eating grin is just the same as it was four years ago. Derek’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

 

 

Derek’s senior thesis was a series of love poems written to non-romantic interests—Faber on an early winter morning with the rising sun, the curling steam that rose from Derek’s favorite mug, the sound a puck made when it hit his best friend’s glove, the steady and soothing pace of his roommate’s fingers on keys. Derek submitted fifty-seven poems without romantic intentions.

 

He didn’t publish the hundred or so poems he wrote over the course of his senior year—any of the poems born from the times he picked up a pen and the only words to pour from his fingertips were bittersweet and longing for a boy close enough to touch if he’d just reach.

 

Derek thinks back to it now, and the one poem he’d try to submit that had been denied by his advisor. A note in the margins read _this one is too romantic to support your thesis_ and Derek fought it for weeks because, no, the poem was about his teammate and roommate and best friend and then— _oh._

 

The same smile Derek had written an ode to once four years ago is back and it is _vibrant_ on Will’s face.

 

Derek knows, now, that he was doomed from the start.

 

“Don’t start a war you can’t win, Poindexter,” Derek says. His voice waivers and betrays the emotions he’s trying to bottle in; Chris’s eyes snap to him.

 

 _Damn,_ Derek thinks.

 

Here’s the thing about loving a boy like William Poindexter: Derek never had the chance to even try to guard his heart. It was a gradual thing, a fall of rain that started as a drizzle and carried on until Derek was drowning in it. They were enemies first, after all. Enemies to partners to roommates to friends. Derek supposes it was inevitable, then, that he’d be unable to stop being curious about where their relationship could go.

 

Derek wonders why it took him four years to realize that this is love.

 

They eat their dinner in companionable peace, chirping one another the way they always have and doting on Michael the way they always will. Derek can’t help but smile every time Will laughs and Chris shares significant looks with Caitlin that make Derek think she’s in on the secret, too. Derek finds he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t touch a sip of alcohol all night but as they’re leaving, Will’s arm presses against Derek’s and he feels drunk off of it.

 

It’s a nice, crisp night—a rarity for Seattle, so instead of going straight to the car, Will takes them on a walk through Redmond. There’s an ice cream parlor they all promise to try while they’re here together and more restaurants than Derek can count and a used book store at the end of the road that Will admits is where he’s gotten the majority of his books.

 

When Will ducks away to take a quick phone call, Chris’s hand brushes against Derek’s forearm. “He teases about how he’s going to be the favorite godparent,” Chris says casually, “but you should hear the things he tells Michael about you.”

 

Something in Derek’s chest expands.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

 

Chris shrugs. “He tells Michael about you all the time. He put on your NHL highlights videos yesterday and went on and on about your stats. Oh, and he tells stories about all of us all the time. Always makes you a big character. Not sure he knows Cait and I can hear him when he does it, but…”

 

Derek blinks slowly. “He talks about me?”

 

“Yes,” Chris says. His gaze is intense when he looks up. “He has so many wonderful things to say about you.”

 

“Chris,” Derek starts. The rest of it, his admission, feels too heavy to say out loud. Up the street, Will turns and catches sight of them. He smiles when Cait lifts Michael’s arm in a wave. Chris takes Derek’s hand and squeezes it.

 

“I know, buddy.”

 

“You’ve known for a while,” Derek guesses. He doesn’t look away from Will and Chris doesn’t look away from Cait.

 

“Probably longer than you’ve known.”

 

Derek laughs. He _knew_ it. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. Got that whole ‘wear-my-heart-on-my-sleeve’ personality that always manages to bite me on the ass sooner or later.”

 

Chris’s gaze softens. “You should talk to him. Will wears his heart on his sleeve, too. In a completely different way than you and I would, but he still does. There’s something about the way he talks about you, you know? There’s something there.”

 

Derek doesn’t respond, distracted by watching Will talk animatedly and grin as he ends his phone call. Will has become comfortable in his own skin, confident in a way he never was before. There is a life here in Seattle that he carved out, all by himself, and it suits him well. He looks happy. Derek thinks that if he hadn’t already fallen in love, he would have now.

 

“Maybe,” Derek murmurs. There is more he could say, but he keeps it to himself as Will walks back towards them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_i don't want to live any more in an old way_

 

Six months after they graduated from Samwell, Will’s relationship status changed to _in a relationship with Oscar Varela_. Derek had stared at the picture for five minutes, quietly surprised, before liking the post and moving on.

 

He woke up at 2am that same night, hands reaching for a pen and paper before his eyes even opened, and words bled out of him like he’d been cut by them. He wrote about jealousy and missed chances and how it felt to collect reasons to love someone. He called it _window pane_ and it was one of the most emotional pieces he’d ever written.

 

Derek can’t believe he’s only just realizing what inspired it.

 

He lies awake in his temporary room in Will’s house for far longer than he cares to admit. It’s peaceful here, Derek thinks. Will has a comfortable home. In his weaker moments, Derek can see himself settling in here—replacing the print in Will’s living room with a painting, replacing the carpet for hardwood in the master, his coffee mug next to Will’s. Gentle mornings with the sun struggling to stream through the clouds and Derek waking up and making breakfast and Will and his soft smile when Derek presses a plate into his hands.

 

Derek wonders if Will knew when he was making this place his home that it would be the kind of place that perfectly accommodated Derek.

 

He wonders if Will wonders about him at all.

 

It’s raining when he wakes up. The window in the nook is foggy with early morning condensation and the sounds of the rainfall pitter quietly against the roof. There’s a wafting smell of something home cooked that keeps him from falling back asleep. Derek takes his time getting out of bed, takes his time stretching and tidying up and washing his face before he makes his way out to the kitchen.

 

Will and Cait sit on the couch with Michael in between them, and at the counter Chris is pouring congee into bowls.

 

“Morning, Nurse,” Will says. His sleep-soft voice hasn’t changed at all. There are three mugs on the coffee table and Will raises one to hand to Derek. “Chris made morning tea. How did you sleep?”

 

It feels domestic in a saccharine way, how Will has a mug ready for him and how his voice is so gentle and how his eyes look as looks over Derek. His tea is perfect when he takes a sip. His stomach is in butterflies over it. “Well,” he answers, and he’s surprised to find he means it. Derek doesn’t often sleep well in beds that aren’t his own. “It’s hella cozy in there, man.”

 

“Doesn’t he just have, like, the best guest rooms ever?” Chris asks. “Even if one of them isn’t always a guest room. Whatever. Okay, breakfast is ready!”

 

The table in the breakfast nook is set. Cait puts Michael in the highchair they brought along and Derek helps Chris bring over bowls of congee. They eat to sounds of the rain outside and whatever album Will put on shuffle playing quietly through a speaker.

 

Derek watches Cait and Chris, as he often does when they’re all together. He loves watching how they make it look so simple. Chris still looks at Caitlin like she hung the stars and Caitlin knows it. He has wanted a love like them for far longer than he can even recall.

 

He catches Will staring at him. There’s a delightful flush that spreads across Will’s cheeks when he gets caught, but he doesn’t immediately look away. He smiles.

 

Derek’s heart stutters in his chest.

 

Across the table, Chris eats his congee quietly while looking back and forth between Derek and Will. Derek tries not to blush under the scrutiny.

 

“Cait and I have a few houses we’re looking at today,” Chris announces. “So we’ll be with the realtor most of this morning. Will, you said you had some places you wanted to show off?”

 

Will nods. “Yeah, there’s some restaurants I want to take everyone to. I’ll give you a tour of Microsoft, too, I think you’d all find that fun. I can show Derek the lake today while you guys are out looking at houses, though.”

 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Caitlin says. She doesn’t look up from spoon-feeding Michael. Derek recognizes her meddling tone without even having to see it in her face. “Rain isn’t supposed to be too bad today.”

 

“You guys could do a picnic,” Chris suggests, and then he laughs to himself.

 

Horrible meddlers, Derek thinks, but he can’t keep the smile off of his face anyway. “Aw, Dexy. You gonna take me on a picnic and feed me sandwiches?”

 

“Fuck off,” Will retorts. He grins. “ _You’re_ making the sandwiches.”

 

Derek can’t help but laugh. “Thought I was banned from making sandwiches after our last Epikegster.”

 

“Well, use cheese that’s already been sliced and then we don’t have to worry about it.”

 

“I didn’t even lose a finger!”

 

“And thank god for that, can you imagine how much worse your game would have gotten if you were short an appendage? You already have a hard time handling the stick.”

 

“Bro, _excuse_ me? Which one of us has the NHL career here?”

 

Across the table, Chris sighs and shakes his head. “Just like old times. Some things literally never change.”

 

Caitlin is beaming from ear to ear. “Aren’t they just the cutest?”

 

Derek ignores them both.

 

He’s used to the comments by now, even though he never really believed the implications. Their senior year, Will and Derek became friends and grew closer and chirps came from their friends that they had become an old married couple. Derek had misplaced the fondness he felt at the thought as platonic and Will had never said anything to make him think he should feel otherwise.

 

People never asked if they were a couple; they didn’t walk into rooms together and get mistaken for being on a date. They weren’t like Ransom or Holster who toed the line between friendship and relationship so closely that even they couldn’t see what side they were on. So Derek took the comments at face value, called it teasing by his friends, and never made the connection that maybe everyone on his goddamn team knew about this before he did.

 

Will isn’t dumb. Derek knows that Will must be aware of what Cait’s implying. Maybe, even, he’s known all along what the comments from their friends have implied. Does it mean something if he knows and he’s never said anything to correct them, or does it mean something if he knows and has never done anything about it?

 

“Old married couple even after the separation, huh, Nurse?” Will asks, and his grin is big enough and full enough that Derek thinks maybe, maybe.

 

“Guess that your up and moving across the country didn’t kill our vibe after all,” Derek replies. Will sticks his tongue out and Derek thinks that he’s never gonna forget this day for as long as he lives.

 

“Guys, my kid is right there,” Chris complains. He covers Michael’s eyes and peels of Michael’s laughter echo through the room. “Can you keep the flirting down? There’s a child present.”

 

“To clarify, he’s the child.”

 

“Betrayed by my own _wife_!”

 

A Will from eight years ago would have spluttered and turned red faster than Chris could have finished his sentence. A Will from four years ago would have blushed and changed the subject. Will, today, is something Derek never expected. He just smiles softly without looking away from Derek and the world turns on its axis because of it.

 

So maybe there is more to this whole thing than Derek ever could have imagined was possible, because who they were eight years ago and where they were four years ago and where they’re headed today are galaxies apart. Derek is a writer and he has created universes out of breadcrumbs but they don’t compare to this universe, right here and now.

 

“We can save it for later, then,” he says, bravely.

 

“God almighty,” Chris whispers, and Caitlin laughs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _i want to build my future out of new emotions  
_ _to seek more than my own in a spring surround  
_ _to move amongst people keen to move outwards  
_ _putting love and ideas into fresh ground_  

_who will come with me across this border  
_ _not anywhere but in the bonds we make  
_ _taking the old apart to find new order  
_ _living ourselves boldly for each other's sake_

 

Will tells him that he thinks the lake looks its most beautiful when it’s in between storms.

 

It’s a short drive to Lake Sammamish, and Will spends the majority of it talking about his life in Redmond and Seattle. Derek, unfamiliar with this happily chatty version of Will, absorbs every word greedily. Will gives him shit every time he pulls out his phone to take pictures.

 

It feels like a date.

 

Derek doesn’t ask if it is.

 

They park Will’s car and Will takes them out onto the dock. There’s barely any other people there, which puts Will in a quietly pleased mood. They sit on the edge and Derek takes off his shoes and socks and rolls up his jeans. The water is warm against his legs, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth that comes from Will. They sit close enough that their arms brush. It feels middle school and Derek loves it anyway.

 

“How often do you come here?” he asks. He can feel when Will shrugs.

 

“At least once a week. I drive this way every time I go into work. I love this dock, man. It’s got the best view. I come out sometimes, early. Get a run in then cool down here and watch as the sun rises. Shut up, you don’t get to fucking chirp me for this, you’ve never seen it.”

 

Derek laughs. “You make it way too easy, bro.”

 

Will nudges his shoulder against Derek’s and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Maybe while you’re out here, I can show you. We can go for a run or whatever. And bring Chris. Gotta keep our professional athletes in shape during the off-season, right?”

 

Derek wants to reach over and twine his fingers with Will’s. Maybe this is a date or maybe it isn’t but he doesn’t really care. He has loved Will for years now, loved him through moving forward and NHL contracts and saying goodbye and long-term relationships that ended without warning and he has loved him through miles and miles of distance. He wants to spend time familiarizing himself with Will in new ways. Learning the curve of his mouth and memorizing the dips in his spine and experiencing Will’s voice when it’s heavy with sleep or exhaustion or lust or love. He’ll make an expedition out of it and he will document what it is like to finally be with the boy you have loved for longer than you even realized.

 

“Chyeah, man, we should do that,” he finally says. He doesn’t take Will’s hand. “Chris’ll complain about it though. Dude’s still not a morning person.”

 

Will snorts. “Hashtag grumpy goalie, right?”

 

“Hah, right.”

 

Silence lapses. There’s no sunrise, but there is still something peaceful about Will’s dock midday. Lake Sammamish is quiet, and the water nice. Further out on the lake, Derek can make out a few people on a rowboat.

 

“You like it, though, right?” Will asks. There’s something heavy in his voice. For a moment, Derek misunderstands. He almost answers, _I love it here, I love seeing you here, it’s amazing._ Will continues, “Playing professional hockey, I mean. It’s everything you imagined and more, right?”

 

Derek fidgets with his pant leg. “It is,” he answers honestly. “Sometimes I can’t believe my life. Living in Providence is, like, hella weird sometimes. Always thought I’d settle back down in New York. And it was mad annoying spending the first year being like, don’t get comfortable, they might trade you, home might not always be home. But it’s… fucking _amazing_. There’s nothing like it, dude.”

 

He notices, too late probably, that Will’s been watching him while he talks. If Derek were a weaker man, he’d be blushing from head to toe.

 

“I can’t even imagine,” Will murmurs. “They gave you the A, though, so you aren’t worried anymore. Are you?”

 

“Nah,” Derek says. “Not so much anymore. Surprised as hell, though. Bits says I should’ve seen it coming as soon as they gave Jack the C, but… You know I don’t think like that. Jack and I, we’re good friends and we went to college together and all that is good and nice. But I never expected things because of it? That’d be mad uncool. Especially since I bust my ass, you know? So yeah, I was surprised. Anyway. I’ll probs be with the Falcs unless I decide to go elsewhere. I still have a few years though.”

 

Will nods. Derek can tell he’s pleased with the answer he’s been given.

 

“Aw, Poindexter,” Derek says, before he even really can process that the words are leaving his mouth. “Do you worry about me?”

 

Will huffs. “Of course I fucking do. I’m not your d-man anymore, dude, I can’t watch your back on that ice. And you’re a mess, clumsy fuck. Someone has to worry about you.” Derek laughs, but then Will’s voice gets softer. “And, you know. You’re my best friend. And I care about you, or whatever. I’ll always worry.”

 

“Will,” Derek starts. He feels warm in unfamiliar ways. He puts his hand on Will’s knee and squeezes. “I’m good, dude. You don’t need to worry.”

 

Will snorts out a laugh. He looks embarrassed, and his cheeks are tinged with pink. Derek _loves_ him, beyond repair. “I _know_ you’re good. I know, Nurse. I watch your games and you play beautiful fucking hockey and I watch your interviews and you smile and you charm and I talk to you on the phone and you sound good. I know you’re good. But—god, this is gonna sound so fucking dumb. Are you, like… are you _happy_?”

 

Derek softens. “I am,” he tells Will. He squeezes Will’s knee again. “I _am_. I have a good life. I have my own place and I have good friends nearby and excellent friends who don’t live nearby but it’s okay. I’m good.”

 

“You were just, like,” Will flails. His arm waves haplessly. “For the first little bit. You seemed… You seemed off.”

 

“Well, I was in shock, man. Never thought I’d get the NHL contract, you know? I always assumed it’d be you with offers lined up out the door. And I was living with Jack and Bitty, yeah? They’re great. They’re _amazing_. But they’re like, so in love, dude. And it made me hella lonely. So, yeah, it was rough at the go. But I settled in. I love my life. Not to sound like a white guy, but I’m livin’ the dream.”

 

Will’s shoulders relax. “Good,” he says. “Good.”

 

Something sits hard on Derek’s chest. “You’re happy, too, right?”

 

“Oh my god,” Will laughs. “Yeah. I’m good.”

 

Derek leans into his side.

 

“I had offers,” Will says suddenly, and Derek’s stomach bottoms out. “Mostly ECHL. But everyone was talking about their NHL offers and this place not far from my hometown had offered me a really good job as a software engineer, and… I don’t know. I thought it’d be better to take the safe job.”

 

“Will,” Derek murmurs.

 

“No, no, this isn’t a sad story,” Will rushes on. “I swear. I’m good. I still get to play sometimes, you know? I took the safe route where I wasn’t risking blowing out my knee. I’d already fucked it up during those last few games senior year, so. I was scared. But it worked out for the best. That job led to this one. I was ready to leave Maine, you know?”

 

“Your breakup,” Derek realizes.

 

“Messy fucker,” Will agrees. “That shit sucked. And it’s not like Portland is a small city but I was still running into Oscar _everywhere_. All of our circles were the same. Like pressing on an open wound, you know, it never fucking heals. And it was complicated with my family, too, they didn’t like Oscar and they thought I lived too far away. Yeah, maybe taking a career playing semi-professional hockey would have gotten me out of Maine anyway, whatever, but. I don’t know. I’m good with how things turned out.”

 

Derek nods. “I get the whole messy breakup thing too, bro.”

 

Will leans into him. Derek closes his eyes.

 

They sit at the dock even with other people start filtering through, sitting periodically and taking pictures and giggling before moving on to the next spot. There’s not a need for constant conversation but occasionally they talk about whatever comes to mind. Derek doesn’t take his hand off of Will’s leg and Will doesn’t put any space between them.

 

Eventually Derek’s feet get pruny and the wind threatens to bring in rainfall, so Will suggests they head back to the car. They’ve spent hours here, watching the water and the mountains and talking about everything and nothing. They walk back to Will’s car standing close enough together that their hands brush every now and then.

 

Will hangs him a brown paper sack as soon as they sit in the car. Derek doesn’t say anything as he takes it, just gives Will a skeptical look and opens it gingerly to peer inside. He starts laughing. “You made sandwiches!”

 

“It’s not really a picnic if it happens in my car, right?” Will grumbles, but he waves his own lunch bag and grins at Derek like he’s pleased with himself.

 

Rain starts to come down as they eat in the car. Will turns on some music. They eat without talking. Will’s sandwiches are delicious and filling, and there’s clementines and blueberries at the bottom of the bag that they snack on when Will finally puts the car into drive and takes off.

 

“Thanks for bringing me out here,” Derek says as they drive through Sammamish and into Redmond. “It’s cool, you know. Getting to see the things you care about. I like getting to be a part of it.”

 

Will’s smile is soft. He doesn’t take his eyes off the toad. “You’ll always be a part of it when it comes to me, Nurse.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_if you ask me today what love is  
_ _i should have to name the people i love  
_ _and perhaps because it's spring  
_ _and i cannot control the knife that's in me  
_ _their names would surprise me as much as you_

_for years i have assumed that love is bloody  
_ _a thing locked up in house and a family tree  
_ _but suddenly its ache goes out beyond me  
_ _and the first love is greater for the new_

 

Derek’s first love was autumn.

 

He doesn’t mean it as a metaphor. He was seven years old when he fell in love with the changing leaves and the crisp air and the way that New York always seemed to be holding its breath before the first snowfall. He cried when autumn broke and winter moved in quietly. He fell in love with myths about the seasons and, when his mamá bought him a calendar, he made a countdown until the first day of fall for the next year.

 

He fell in love a number of times after that, more times than he could have counted. He fell in love with New York during all seasons and he fell in love with storytelling and he fell in love with hockey. He fell in love with boys in his chemistry classes and girls with colorful hair in coffee shops.

 

Derek’s first real love was a boy who spit fire and walked around like the chip he carried on his shoulder was larger than anyone else’s. Derek loathed him at first, loathed the way he moved through life and said whatever he wanted and almost always got away with it. But he always had a penchant for unraveling the things he couldn’t understand, and Dex was no different at the time.

 

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that he’d fallen in love so quietly. Years of wasted time where he had loved Will without even knowing it, loved him from afar.

 

Derek is mere inches away from Will now and it still feels chasmic.

 

They eat dinner with Chris and Caitlin and sit across the table from one another and Derek thinks it’s too far. They collapse on the couch with everyone after Michael is put to bed and Derek is pressed right against Will’s side and it still feels too far.

 

Will makes it thirty minutes into the movie before he falls asleep, and his head lolls for a moment before it finally settles on Derek’s shoulder and Derek thinks, _we’re getting there_.

 

“You must have had a busy day,” Caitlin comments. Chris’s head is in her lap and she runs her fingers through his hair. Derek is sure he’s asleep, too. “Did you boys have fun at the lake?”

 

“It’s beautiful out there,” Derek answers honestly. He shifts his arm and Will settles more comfortably into his side. “Will made sandwiches. I wouldn’t call it a picnic but it was totes a good time. You guys are going to love it out here.”

 

Cait hums noncommittally. “Chris is thrilled. He’s not stuck in the past, by any means, but he misses you guys sometimes. Wishes everyone could be closer. And it was too loud for him in Vegas. He loved his team, don’t get me wrong. And Jeff was very hospitable to us when we first moved down there. But Chris was struggling and he never would have admitted it. It should be good for him, out here. I hope he does better.”

 

“Seattle puts up one hell of a case,” Derek tells her. “I’ve fallen in love with it already and I have to leave.”

 

“Is it really the _place_ though, Derek?”

 

He laughs. “Blasphemy. I can’t believe Chris married a blasphemer.”

 

Caitlin’s eyes are gentle and fond. It dawns on Derek, now, that she loves them as much as Chris does. “I’ve been rooting for you two for a long time,” she tells him. Her voice is quiet enough that it’s almost lost in the movie. “I’m glad you’re finally both getting there.”

 

“Finally?”

 

“Do you remember what you said to me right after you and Samira broke up last year? You said, ‘Caty, it’s like she thinks there’s someone else.’ And after you were done telling Chris and I, you called Will and you stayed on the phone with him for two hours. There wasn’t someone else, not when it was you and Samira and not when it was Will and Oscar. But there _was_ Will and he was always going to be there, even if you didn’t know yet.”

 

Derek sighs. “You could have _told_ me,” he mumbles. She pats his arm.

 

“We tried, honey. You weren’t ready to hear it yet.”

 

Will has always been a heavy sleeper, so Derek doesn’t even worry when Will sighs heavily and shifts his head to find a more comfortable position. It’s closer, but Derek still doesn’t think it’s enough. “What am I supposed to do now?” he asks.

 

“You can tell him.”

 

He looks at her tiredly. “And what does that do, even if he feels the same way? I live literally across the country.”

 

“You think I wouldn’t still love Chris with three thousand miles between us? Bitch, please. It doesn’t matter. Talk to him and make it work. You travel a lot anyway. Will can work from home most days out of the week. You guys both have ridiculous salaries. Get creative, for the love of god.” Caitlin rolls her eyes at him. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, though.

 

“I love you, Cait,” he tells her. “You’re too good of a friend.”

“Yeah, I’m the best,” she tells him. Her face softens again. “But I mean it seriously when I say that I want you to be happy. So take _this_ seriously. Do something about it. You’re here for a whole week, dude. Wouldn’t you rather spend it falling in love with him in a way you’ve never gotten to before?”

 

Derek snorts. “God, I take it back. You’re embarrassing. You and Chris are made for one another.”

 

They fall asleep like that, all of them tangled together on the couch with Michael’s baby monitor turned up on the coffee table next to them. Derek falls asleep thinking about how he understands what Cait was talking about, how Chris could love where he was and still wish he was somewhere else.

 

Caitlin wakes him when she gets up, and he sits with her while she feeds Michael and they talk about the houses they’re looking at and the pros and cons of each neighborhood they’re looking at. They sit there chatting until Will finds them and insists it’s his turn to play with Michael. Derek tries not to focus on how lovely Will looks with Michael in his arms. The looks Caitlin give him suggest he’s not doing as well as he’d hope.

 

“More houses today?” Will asks.

 

“Just one,” Cait says. “I was thinking you guys could come to this one. It’s my favorite and I’ve got high hopes. Once we’re done, do you think we could drive into Seattle? I wanna make my son a tourist.”

 

Will groans. “God,being a tourist in my own city.”

 

“I’d love to come with,” Derek adds. Will rolls his eyes.

 

“Course he does. Seattle is just the right amount of hipster for him.” Will grins wolfishly at Derek. “What the hell. You know I’d be more than happy to go look at the house with you, Cait. And we’ll see all the best touristy spots, too.”

 

Derek whispers to Caitlin, “I knew he secretly loved all those things he calls tourist traps.”

 

Will says, “I will absolutely _not_ wear a fanny pack and you cannot make me.”

 

He doesn’t wear a fanny pack, but Chris and Derek manage to convince him to wear sunglasses and buy a cheap disposable camera to take pictures with. Will groans for two minutes straight when Derek pulls out a Hawaiian-patterned shirt and asks in a deadpanned voice if this will be acceptable wear for the day.

 

 

The house that Caitlin loves is on Mercer Island, and it takes three seconds for Derek to fall in love with it, too.

 

The realtor lets them walk through the house at their own pace. Cait and Chris talk about the number of bedroom and bathrooms and what the commute will be like, and Derek and Will talk about staggered cabinets and the backsplashes and the size of the backyard. Derek has a vivid image of all of them, a few years from now, sitting on the patio and catching up while Michael darts around the home with young kids close to his age.

 

It’s a lovely place to live.

 

He tells Cait as much, when Chris and Will leave to scope out the backyard. They stand on the patio together. “I can see why you loved this one.”

 

Caitlin smiles. “We’re going to put in an offer. We already saw this one yesterday. Thought it was important to let you and Will come see it, too. It’s a good location and a gorgeous house. Big enough for us too, plus a few more. Not a bad commute for Chris to KeyArena. Not a bad commute for me, either.”

 

Derek turns to look at her, eyebrow raised.

 

“Seattle University called me yesterday,” she tells him. “I applied on a whim but they offered it to me. Assistant women’s volleyball coach, starting ASAP.”

 

“ _Cait_!”

 

She laughs. “I know, I know, shush. Chris was going to tell everyone tonight at dinner. He likes to show off how proud he is of me, you know.”

 

Derek does know. It’s one of his favorite things about them both.

 

Chris doesn’t make it till dinner, he practically vibrates out of his chair at lunch and the news explodes out of him like he’s been waiting to say it all his life. He cries as Derek and Will take turns hugging him and his wife, and Caitlin chirps him endlessly for it. Lunch, previously, was going to be a simple affair, but they buy dessert and celebrate and make promises to have a proper congratulatory affair later.

 

Michael takes his nap while they’re at the Space Needle, and Cait is long suffering about it. He’s passed from arms to arms as everyone takes turns posing out the glass. Derek falls in love with the view. Will wraps his arm around Derek’s waist when they pose for a picture with Mt. Rainier in the background.

 

The couple who offered to take their picture tells them they look good together.

 

“Thanks,” Will says, before Derek can correct them. The smile he gives to Derek is more beautiful than the entirety of Seattle laid out before them.

 

Will takes them to Pike Place Market and Derek buys more flowers than he knows what to do with. They all get lost in the expansion of underground shops. Will sticks by Derek’s side the whole time. At the gum wall, Chris and Caitlin spend an exorbitant amount of time chewing gum and making their initials to add to the wall. Will holds Michael and valiantly attempts to keep his little hands away from all the gum. Derek falls in love with him a little bit more.

 

“Enjoying your day as a tourist?” Will asks.

 

Derek tucks a carnation behind Will’s ear as an answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_this year more than any other  
_ _the winter has savaged my deepest roots  
_ _and the easter sun is banging hard against the window  
_ _the arms of my loves are flowering widely  
_ _and over the fields a new definition is running_

_even though the streets we walk cannot be altered  
_ _and faces there are that will not understand  
_ _we have a sun born of our mutual longings  
_ _whose shine is a hard fact—love is a new land_

 

They go out to dinner alone.

 

The Athenian Seafood Restaurant is exactly what Derek expects it to be. They get a seat by the window, and the Puget Sound makes Derek fall in love all over again.

 

“This is so Sleepless in Seattle,” Derek says with a grin. Will smacks his arm with a menu. “C’mon, admit it. You like the tourist traps just as much as the rest of us mortal humans. You had a good day today.”

 

Will sniffs haughtily. “My good day had nothing to do with the sights we saw today.”

 

“Sure, bud,” Derek teases. “You glad we all came out, though?”

 

The waiter comes before Will answers, and the conversation is paused by food and drink orders. Derek expects Will to change the subject, after the interruption, but Will’s gaze catches him and it’s more serious than Derek expects it to be. “You know I’m glad you’re here, right?” he asks.

 

Derek picks at a napkin. “Well, yeah, I mean. I’m glad we all got together, too. Been too long since we all saw each other.”

 

“Derek,” Will says. His voice is tight, like he’s frustrated. His expression is earnest, and Derek _loves_ him. It’s undeniable. “Listen to what I’m saying. You know I’m glad _you_ , specifically, Derek Nurse, are here in Seattle with me. Right?”

 

Derek’s heart is in his throat. “I’m glad I’m here, too. With you. In Seattle.”

 

Will settles back in his chair. “Good,then, ” he says to himself. “Good.”

 

“Do you ever miss Samwell?” Derek asks suddenly. “The Haus, Faber, the Quad. Annie’s. Morning skates on the frozen pond. Do you miss it?”

 

“Yeah,” Will says honestly. “I miss it all the time. It’s great out here, and I’m happy. I have good friends from work, you know? Good people. I talk to my family often and I hear from you and Chris often and it’s good. But I miss how simple it was, kind of. As crazy as it sounds, I miss sharing a room with your messy ass. I was lonely too, right after moving out here. Oscar and I, we never moved in together, but… we were always together, still. I hated sleeping alone.”

 

“Me too,” Derek admits.

 

Will laughs, one of Derek’s favorite laughs. Half-embarrassed, like he doesn’t know how to react to a situation except to laugh. “I never wanted to be one of those guys that was like, ‘oh my god, my college days were my glory days. Frat houses for life. I peaked in college.’ But it’s different being a grown-up. And it’s lonely as fuck sometimes.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be,” Derek tells him. Will looks at him in surprise. Tentatively, he reaches across the table. His hand, as an offering. Will stares at it and doesn’t move.

  
Derek holds his breath.

 

There was a moment, five years ago. Right before their senior year started when they were settling back into the attic and Derek crouched down to drop a box and when he stood back up Will had stumbled a little too close into his space. They were chest to chest and Will’s hand curled in Derek’s shirt to steady them both and if Derek had moved even just a little bit to the left he probably would have kissed Will. He thought about it all night, throughout the kegster and as he tried to fall asleep and for the next week. He couldn’t figure out why it bothered him so much.

 

Eventually he decided it was because he had almost put himself in a spot to be rejected. He spent all of his college years trying dutifully to avoid putting himself in situations that could reject him, because it was his least favorite place to be.

 

Today he offers Will his hand and a thousand other things, and the thought of being rejected doesn’t even cross his mind.

 

Will takes his hand and squeezes.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says again.

 

They can’t quite hold hands throughout dinner, sitting across the table from one another. They eat in almost silence, sharing tidbits of conversation and food. Derek slides his calf against Will’s and sighs in relief when Will tangles their legs together under the table. The food is delicious and they watch as the sun sets and Derek takes picture after picture. Will doesn’t chirp him at all for it today.

 

Chris and Cait text and say they took a Lyft back to Will’s, heading back after Michael got fussy enough they knew they needed to put him to bed for the night. Will’s fingers play idly with Derek’s when he reads the text out loud.

 

They drive quietly and Derek tangles their hands together once again. Will taps along to the beat of the radio and thrills run through Derek’s body every time Will’s thumb brushes against his. He has never felt less lonely in his life.

 

When they fall asleep that night, Derek is tangled in the sheets and Will’s head is on his chest. They spent the evening sitting on Will’s bed and half watching whatever show Will had streamed through his laptop. Derek didn’t try to kiss him, even though he thought about it a hundred thousand times. He believes there will be time for it tomorrow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_i haven't felt this young for twenty years_

 

There’s coffee and omelettes in the morning when Derek wakes up and there is Will’s sleep-soft smile and his morning breath. There is lingering touches and Will’s hand brushing against his shoulders with purpose when he takes his seat at the breakfast nook. There is lingering glances and there is the thrill of excitement Derek gets in his chest every time he catches Will’s eye.

 

There is just the two of them in Will’s house, after Caitlin and Chris beg off with their son to go adventure on their own.

 

Derek takes his time getting ready. He needs the moment to catch his breath. He feels warm and heavy and sticky with hope and with anticipation. The day is bright and beautiful outside. Derek plans to spend every moment of it learning new things about William Poindexter.

 

They sit on the porch swing, before they do anything else.

 

“To clarify,” Will says, straight to the point. He’s wearing a Schooners hat backwards and Derek can’t stand the sight of how lovely he looks. “To clarify, there’s like. Definitely something going on here. And I’m one hundred percent on board with taking this thing forward.”

 

Derek huffs out a laugh. “So romantic.”

 

“I’m not looking for romance, asshole, we had romance last night and you didn’t even kiss me.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes. “You had all the chances in the world too, dude.”

 

Will takes Derek’s hand again. “I just want to be clear. I’m all in. Have been for a long fucking time, if we’re being honest. So.”

 

Derek closes his eyes. “There’s still, like, hella complications we have to figure out though,” he says. “Like the fact that I live in Providence and you live here and we both have awesome careers that neither of us should sacrifice.”

 

“You travel a lot anyway and I can work remotely half the time,” Will says dismissively.

 

“Have you been talking to Cait?”

 

“What, you think you’re the only one she has heart-to-hearts with? Aw, babe.”

 

Derek’s heart skips a beat. " _Babe_?”

 

Will blushes a delightful pink. Because he can, Derek brushes his knuckles against Will’s cheek. “Shut up, it was a chirp, you asshole. But also, yeah, if you’re okay with that. We don’t have to do the pet name thing, it’s whatever.”

 

“It’s not whatever,” Derek says. “Pet names for days, bro. Baby. Sunshine. Sugar. Light of my life.”

 

Will groans. “Okay, never mind, no.”

 

Derek pulls him back by the hand when Will stands up and tries to walk away, and Will collapses back down next to him laughing and sitting too close. Derek thinks again how much he loves Will. “Stop it, we’re having a serious conversation.”

 

Will puts his hand Derek’s cheek. His eyes are serious, and more happy than Derek can ever remember seeing him. “Derek, relationships with professional athletes were always going to come with a long-distance clause. You think I haven’t thought about this? I don’t care.”

 

“I’ll be traveling a lot, and you can work from home,” Derek repeats.

 

“Home, or wherever you want me to be for the week,” Will agrees. “We’ve waited a long fucking time for this, haven’t we?”

 

Derek laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, we have.”

 

They hold hands on the drive back into Seattle and they hold hands as they walk through Seattle and Derek thinks about kissing Will a thousand times but he never makes his move. They get lunch at some small hole-in-the-wall place that makes Derek think of New York. Will insists on paying.

 

Will leads them by Pike Place again and takes pictures of Derek next to the big sign. He doesn’t say anything about how cheesy it is and he doesn’t even roll his eyes. He looks overly fond and pleased when he lowers the camera and Derek can’t help but wrap his arms around him when they come back together.

 

“I love you,” Will says, muffled by Derek’s t-shirt. He was expecting it and not expecting it all at once and it makes his heart race. Derek wants to feel this way for the rest of his life. He holds Will tight and thinks that maybe he’s going to have it.

 

“I love you,” Derek whispers back.

 

Their first kiss is at the Seattle Art Museum in front of _Sea Change, 1947_. Dex sits in front of the painting for ten minutes straight before Derek finally comes up and wraps his arms around Will’s waist. The painting is breathtaking and he thinks Will looks beautiful taking it in.

 

“It feels monumental,” Will whispers, and Derek kisses his cheek. “It feels important and it feels like we’re lucky to be standing here right now.”

 

“It is important,” Derek agrees. Will turns in his arms and kisses him square on the mouth. As far as first kisses go, it’s on the short side. But Will had it right, when he said it first—it is monumental.

 

Their second kiss is also in front of _Sea Change,_ their third in the Wyckoff Porcelain room, and their fourth in front of the coffee cart outside of the SAM. Derek loses track after that, when Will drags him back to his car and kisses him till they’re both breathless. Derek’s hand curls haplessly around Will’s neck and he feels so happy he can’t breathe.

 

“I love you,” he says again, because it feels monumental and important and big. He’s not nervous, not in the slightest, and he doubts that the rush he feels in his bloodstream will ever go away. He wants Will to know, and to never think otherwise.

 

“I love you,” he says when they’re at the top of the Great Wheel, and when they’re at dinner, and when they’re in front of Will’s house again. Will says it back every time, sounding breathless even after Derek has said it what has to be a thousand times. His eyes go wide and his cheeks tinge with pink. Will rolls his eyes and he chirps Derek and he threatens to throw Derek off the top of the Great Wheel when Derek says something to piss him off and it’s perfect.

 

Their one hundredth kiss happens that night, though neither of them have been keeping track by this point. They say goodnight to Chris and Caitlin and Michael and go to bed early and spend the evening exchanging heated kisses and laughing at one another. Eventually they grow tired and Derek curls up against Will’s chest. His eyes are drifting closed.

 

“Give the world the miracle it waits for,” he recites, whispering the words into Will’s ribcage. He can almost feel them settle there. “What a laugh that would be.”

 

“Hm?” Will asks. Derek thinks he might already be asleep. There will be repeats of moments like these for the rest of their lives. So Derek holds him tighter.

 

“Just a poem,” he whispers. “Just telling you I think this is a miracle.”

 

Will hums. “You’re right. It is. We still might kill each other.”

 

And Derek shakes his head slowly but Will is already asleep by this point. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Derek is sure that Will already knows what he’s thinking.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thank you so much for reading !! bookmark, comment, kudos below :')


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